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Monday, December 21, 2015

Father Christmas

With The Kinks!

Fröhliche Weinachten, y'all!!!

Saturday, October 24, 2015

In the Dark

A few weeks back.  I was pulling onto a particularly dark and desolate stretch of highway late at night  as I do from time to time.  A strand of asphalt and bridges through an Appalachian mountain range between two places in the middle of nowhere.


Yes!  I like it!!

Then again, it can be a little disconcerting.  Few others on the road that time of night.   Oftentimes no one.   Black as pitch when there's no moon.  I'm OK though because I have halogen eyes, yes.  I'm riding the black dragon, yes........and I have countermeasures........

So.  I've never been a 'fan' of this group.  I'd rather have eaten worms than listen to them back in the day.  Trendy.  Trite. Bubblegum lyrics.

As I pulled into the abyss, this tune came over the air.  It was like seeing an old acquaintance. A soul I'd really never talked to.  Never knew. Now, decades later, I'm happy to see..... because we shared a time.

Sounds like the guitar player is having a good time.   I like the bit at about 4:12 when the rhythm guy strolls up. He's got a thing or two up his sleeve.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Sweet is the night.

In the year of 1977 came upon the land a group of minstrels.   Here is but a sampling of their craft:

When the day is done and there's nowhere to run
And the people of the city have all lost and won
In your city dress you stand and stare
And you smoke another cigarette and comb your hair
And the light that shines
Paints a trace of sadness
On the street I wait
But I can't seem to get to you.

Well, you start to sway, check your Cartier
'Cos it's getting late, you can't afford to wait
So you move along where it's going on
And the people of the night are playing 'till the dawn
And the sun that shines
Paints a trace of sadness
In your eyes that cry
Wishing and hoping

Sweet, sweet is the night
Now you are near
Dark, dark were the days
They disappear
Sweet, sweet is the night
Now you are near.

Well you did your thing and you lost your wings
And you hurt so bad you lost everything
And the tears that fall on the city wall
Will fade away with the rays of morning light that shines
Paints a smile across your pretty face
I know
Everything is alright


Wishing and a hoping.

Monday, July 13, 2015

'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'

So, I remember the first time I saw the film. I read the book later on.  It's only just become clear.  Perhaps I had an understanding before, yes I did.  Just the other day, I was thinking about who I know that is bonkers, and what that I see is as well.

Who is the loon? Some folks think they are, but they're not.  Some folks pretend.  Then there are the real, but they've not a clue, I think. They can hide right in front of you. Act as you'd expect so that you don't suspect. Sociopaths? Psychopaths? Whatever the name, I call them dangerous.

If I step aside a minute, think about what's going on around me.  It's unnerving.  A great deal more than that, really.   I can go on about life. Paint my shutters, mow the lawn, tinker with machines. Time goes by, it's all good. Then I look up.

A suicide two doors down. Young woman, beautiful. What despair called her to take her life? So much pain.

It's never a good day for Banana Fish, though I have thought about it from time to time.  As to the heat and the flame I am drawn.  Always strong enough to pull back.

Three young people, I know their families, dead from heroine in the past about 18 months.  One had had some other problems, no less tragic. The other two seemed 'fine'.

Several people close to me have come unhinged, so it seems. Some refuse to talk, others think they have it all figured out and want to let me know how it is.

Once upon a time my job was chasing the crazies.  First full time gig out of college.  Knock on their door, wherever and whatever that happened to be, check on their well being. 'You alright?' Strictly a relative inquiry. 'Taking your meds?' 'Food in the cupboard?' 'You need to see the Doc.' Typically, or so my recollection goes, the response was something of an indirect "Fuck you! Go away!" Sometimes it was exactly that. I came again. Some of them became friends of sorts. Against the rules, you know, but what the hell.

Mental wards.  I've been on many.  Just like prison except with sweet nurses and not so much violence.  Bars on the windows, just like in the film. Pop through a locked, steel door and everyone turns to see.  Who are you, who you are.  You making a break for it, or just checking in?

Got to keep the loonies on the path.
No, I will weep no more. In such a night
To shut me out? Pour on; I will endure.
In such a night as this? O Regan, Goneril!
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all—
O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.
King Lear Act 3, scene 4, 17–22

The wrong people are stepping off.

Friday, May 29, 2015

The Window

Look through the window.  Tell me what do you see?

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Monday, May 11, 2015

Tears in rain

Been trying to get a comment to post on the last and having some difficulty.  There are always alternate routes.  This is a follow on post to the last.  Stay clean.

Friday, April 24, 2015

You'd better get it up,

A friend of mine put up a post the other day requesting favorite movie quotes of all time.  I may have mentioned that I like science fiction quite a bit.  This is a shorty from one of my favorite all time films:

Oh, and I too sometimes poke my head through walls, yeah.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

The Baroness Von Sacher-Masoch

Say it in broken english.  Caught in the circle of papez today:

and then this,

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Träume von Rosen und ewigen Mai

I've been having strange dreams of late.  Got me to thinking, and singing like I do.  And wondering, how many songs are there about dreaming?

'Dreaming just comes natural, like the first breath, of a baby. Like sunshine feedin' daisies, like the love hidden deep in your heart' John Prine

'Dream weaver, I believe you can get me through the night.'  Gary Wright

An all time fav by The Who:

"Dreaming From The Waist"

I feel like I want to break out of the house
My heart is a-pumping, I've got sand in my mouth
I feel like I'm heading up to a cardiac arrest
I want to scream in the night, I want a manifest

I've got that wide awake, give-and-take, five o'clock-in-the-morning feeling
I've got the hots for the sluts in the well thumbed pages of a magazine
I want to drive, want to fly like I do in the dreams I've never really been in
I want to hump, want to jump, want to heat up, cool down in a dream machine

I'm dreaming ... from the waist on down
I'm dreaming ... but I feel tired and bound
I'm dreaming ... of a day when a cold shower helps my health
I'm dreaming ... dreaming - of the day I can control myself
Day I can control myself

Sound like a priest and then I'm shooting dice
I'm burning tires with some guy whose hair is turning white
I know the girls that I pass, they just ain't impressed
I'm too old to give up, but too young to rest

I've got that numb-to-a-thumb over-dubbed
Feeling social when the world is sleeping
The plot starts to thicken then I sicken and I feel I'm cemented down
I'm so juiced that the whorey lady's sad sad story has me quietly weeping
But here comes the morning
Here comes the yawning demented clown

I'm dreaming ... but I know it's all hot air
I'm dreaming ... I'll get back to that rocking chair
I'm dreaming ... of the day I can share the wealth
I'm dreaming ... dreaming - of the day I can control myself
Day I can control myself
Hey, hey!
The day I can control myself

Then of course this:

Hold on tight to your dreams!

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Idle tears.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
(Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1847)